


El Dorado

by placentalmammal



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Alcohol, F/F, Infidelity, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-06 01:44:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5398163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/placentalmammal/pseuds/placentalmammal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boyd and Cass spent an enjoyable afternoon in Boyd's office. Originally posted <a href="http://falloutkinkmeme.livejournal.com/6099.html?thread=15045331#t15045331">here</a> on the Fallout Kink Meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	El Dorado

Studying the Mojave was an exercise in quantum mechanics: allegiances were made and broken as ruling factions won and lost control of towns with ever-changing borders. Even with a virtual stalemate between House, the NCR, and the Legion, the political situation was unstable, at best. Mercurial as a gambler's luck, inscrutable as a whore's favor. How a fucking mailman had ended up the lynchpin in half-a-dozen conflicting plots was entirely beyond Cass' understanding of politics. Something to do with shady land deals in the NCR Senate or Old World tech mergers or ancient tribal alliances or the goddamn phase of the moon.

Fuck it.

Instead of reading tea leaves and shuffling Tarot cards with the rest of the Mojave's forecasters, Cass allocated her limited time and energy to realm of things she already understood. She was a Caravaner, she understood supply lines and trade routes and the flow of money from other people's purses to hers. Business shit.

Turned out, the only person worth discussing business shit with was an NCR lieutenant by the name of Boyd, a hard-ass with a shaved head and an apparently-permanent scowl that politely suggested that you'd better have a good fucking reason to be bothering her. Cass never did, but that was absolutely no reason not to make her way up the busted escalator to Boyd's sequestered office and make herself at home, maybe put her feet up on the desk.

"I hope you know," Boyd said on one such occasion, "That I only tolerate your presence here because of your association with our mutual friend."

"And which friend would that be?" Cass asked, her voice sweet-as-pie. "The mailman you bribed to take out your trash, or the Major who keeps paying her to bring back heads?"

"First off," said Boyd, gesturing with a fountain pen, "you know damn well who I'm talking about. Secondly, my office is a restricted area, and I'd be well within my rights to have my boys in beige drag you out of here by the ear."

"Then do it," Cass said. "Been a while since I've seen the inside of an NCR drunk tank, I'd love to know whether you ever got around to implementing my suggestions."

"No, no," Boyd said. "Drunk tank's too good for your skinny ass. You'd get escorted off-base by very nice men with very large guns. They'd see you safely to, I don't know, a fucking minefield."

Cass batted her eyelashes. "Why, Miss Boyd, this is so sudden! I had no idea you spent so much time thinking about my ass."

"Only about the logistics of putting my foot up it. And that's Lieutenant to you, Cassidy."

"If that's what you're after, all you had to do was ask, Lieutenant."

The look Boyd gave her was cool, appraising. "I can't tell," she said slowly, "If you're flirting with me, or if you just have a death wish."

"Why not both?"

Boyd sighed and traded her pen for the pack of cigarettes hidden in her desk drawer. She stuck a cigarette between her teeth and lit up with an easy, reflexive motion. She took a long drag, held the smoke for a one-two count, and released it, her pale eyes fixed on Cass.

Cass leaned forward and stole a cigarette, not-coincidentally offering the lieutenant a look down her blouse. Boyd sighed again, and passed the lighter to Cass.

"You're a righteous pain-in-the-ass, have I ever told you that?"

Cass grinned, and lit her cigarette. "You know you love it," she said, smoke curling around her head, a dim grey halo to match Boyd's dim, grey office.

"My type," she said, speaking more to herself than Cass, "is apparently shit-kicker wasters, God help me." Boyd's eyes flicked from Cass' chest, back to her face. "I got a husband," she said. "Technically."

"What, ink not dry on the divorce papers?"

"Something like that," Boyd muttered. She took another pull off her cigarette, the tip glowing red in the gloom. "He's taking the dog."

"Lousy bastard," Cass said agreeably, tapping ash into the tray on Boyd's desk. "Get back at him by fucking a hot redhead?"

"He'd just be mad he wasn't here to watch."

Cass grimaced. "God, one of those?"

"Yup."

"How the fuck did you end up shackled to his sorry ass?"

"He made me laugh," Boyd said, and Cass had no smart comeback. They smoked in quiet, companionable silence for a few minutes, watching the movement of one another's hands and lips with guarded interest. Cass put on a show of unbuttoning the top two buttons on her blouse, exposing a few inches of collarbone and a glimpse of her dingy lace camisole.

"Fuck it," Boyd said suddenly, throwing her still-burning cigarette down in the ashtray. "I'm not doing anything that I can't put off until tomorrow. What are you doing tonight?"

"Well, I was gonna get shitfaced and write dirty limericks about Caesar's boys, but I think I just received a better offer."

"Damn straight,"Boyd said. She stood and crossed to the door, throwing it open with more force than necessary. "Hey you," she said, addressing the wet-behind-the-ears Trooper posted outside her office door, "Something's come up, and I don't want to be disturbed, understand?"

"B-but Lieutenant--" he spluttered, and Boyd cut him off with a gesture.

"But nothing, Private. I'm going to close and lock this door, and you're not going to knock unless the entire Mojave catches fire, you understand? Anything short of a second nuclear war, and you just fucking deal with it. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes ma'am," he said, and Boyd slammed the door in his face, sliding the deadbolt into place a moment later.

"Now," she said, turning to face Cass, "Where were we?"

"You're hot when you're making men piss themselves," Cass purred, stubbing her cigarette out in the ashtray.

"Glad someone thinks so," Boyd said. She returned to her desk and produced a silver flask from the top drawer. "Whiskey?"

Cass groaned. "You really are the perfect woman," she said, accepting the flask and unscrewing the lid. The whiskey burned like kerosene, numbing her lips and tongue, and she groaned again in appreciation. "That's good shit."

"I got high standards," Boyd said, and she took the flask back. "Finest pre-war malt available. I got it as a commendation for cracking that Centurion, a few months back."

"The one Six took care of?" Cass said, with an unladylike snort of laughter, leaning forward on her elbows again. Boyd nodded, and Cass laughed again. "She's going to be pissed when she hears about this. Only thing she loves more than caps and chems is booze."

"She was compensated for services rendered," Boyd said, waving her hand unconcernedly and taking a pull from the flask. "She wants a cut of the booze, she should join up formally instead of playing errand girl."

"Good luck with that," Cass said. "Girl's allergic to authority, as well as common sense."

"She's a sucker," Boyd said.

"I'll drink to that," Cass said, taking the flask when it was offered. She raised it in salute. "To suckers."

"To suckers," Boyd echoed, and Cass drank, then passed the flask back. Boyd took another swallow and smacked her lips in satisfaction. "God, that's good."

"The best," Cass agreed. "Now, are you gonna kiss me, or are we going to sit here all day?"

"Hold your damn horses," Boyd grumbled, screwing the cap back onto the flask. "I'm not wasting a drop of this."

"Smart," Cass said. "Now quit stalling, and kiss me."

Boyd's mouth tasted like cigarettes and whiskey. Her lips were chapped and her tongue felt like velvet in Cass' mouth. Her hands slid over Cass' chest, cupping her breasts then moving up to her shoulders to press her closer. Cass arched into Boyd's touch, running her fingers across her scalp, savoring the texture of her soft stubble. They moaned against one another's mouths, both starved for touch.

"Bed," Boyd said, tugging Cass out of her chair and towards the army cot in the corner of her office. "Now."

Cass went along without resistance, already fumbling with Boyd's uniform. She got her hands underneath the hem of the Lieutenant's shirt and slid them up, caressing her soft belly and full breasts, stroking and squeezing as Boyd attacked her mouth.

"Fuck," she said, helping Cass by undoing the clasps and buckles holding her armor in place. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

She knelt on top of Cass, straddling her hips, leaning forward with her tits in Cass' face. Her hands were on either side of Cass' head, supporting her weight. Boyd's muscles stood out sharply beneath her skin as Cass ghosted her fingertips along her abdomen, raising gooseflesh. Cass slid her fingertips along the other woman's ribs, circling around her back until she found the clasp of her bra. A moment of fumbling, and Boyd shrugged out of it, letting it fall from her slack fingers and onto the floor, heavy breasts moving freely.

Cass cupped her breasts, the soft, warm flesh spilling out of her hands. "I had no idea," Cass said, breathing heavily, "You had such great tits under that armor. Fuck."

Boyd laughed breathily. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Cass said, reaching up to recapture the other woman's mouth. She moved her hands from her tits to her bare back, sliding down to cup her ass. Boyd groaned against her mouth, rolling her hips against Cass. Boyd was warm and soft under her hands, panting and eager, and Cass moved her hands again, this time fumbling with Boyd's belt buckle.

Working together, both of them made clumsy by their eagerness, they managed to get Boyd's trousers and Cass' clothing off. They had somehow switched positions, Boyd on her back and Cass on top, her hands roving over Boyd's naked body, tracing the other woman's stretchmarks and scars. She was blushing, cheeks and chest pink and rosy with arousal, full lips parted.

"You're so hot like this," Cass murmured against her neck. "Fuck, you smell so good."

"I smell like sweat and cigarettes," Boyd said, laughing, her fingers tangled in Cass' red hair.

"It's damn sexy," Cass said. "Fuck, I want you so bad. I'm so wet." She ran her hands along Boyd's belly and down her thighs, squeezing her soft flesh before she put her hand to Boyd's mound, pressing the heel of her hand against her slit.

Boyd squirmed underneath Cass, lips pressed together. "God, you're fucking soaked," Cass murmured, kissing the underside of Boyd's jaw. "Fuck." She ran her pointer finger along Boyd's seam, pressing into her and searching for her clit. She found it, a sweet little pearl among the mound of dark, curling hair, and Boyd arched like she'd touched a live wire.

"Right there," she said hoarsely. "Fuck, don't stop."

Cass obliged her, changing the angle of her hand and using her thumb to massage Boyd's clit while she teased her seam with her other fingers. Boyd lay rigid, hands clenched around Cass' forearms, her mouth a thin line, tension building in her core while Cass fucked her with her hand, murmuring vulgar praise against her downy skin.

Boyd came quickly, releasing her tension all at once, shaking and shuddering underneath Cass' hands, clenching around her fingers and letting loose a stream of profanities fit to make a drill sergeant blush. Her fingertips dug into Cass' skin, leaving hand-shaped bruises on her forearms, a pleasurable sort of pain.

"Fuck," Boyd said again, trembling and exhausted. "I needed that."

Cass kissed her on the mouth, lingering and slow, their tongues sliding over one another's like waves on the beach. Boyd held her close for a moment, then pushed her away.

"Come on," she said. "Let me up, and I'll take care of you."

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Cass said, but she was already sitting back against the wall, shifting her weight and spreading her legs to let Boyd kneel in between them. Boyd shushed her with the same dismissive gesture she'd used on the private, then pressed a row of sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to Cass' collarbones and breasts, working her way down, towards her aching pussy.

Cass shivered at the feel of the other woman's hot, warm breath on her cunt. "You smell so good," Boyd murmured, then pressed a kiss to the thatch of curls between Cass' legs. She kissed closed-mouth, then let her tongue dart out, flicking snake-like over her clit.

Cass groaned and spread herself for Boyd, two fingers on her outer lips to hold herself open. Boyd lapped at her cunt, tongue moving up and down along her seam, circling her clit. She gasped and leaned forward, shoulders curling as she scrambled for a handhold in the mussed blankets. Her hands landed on Boyd's head, her fingers moving frantically over her shaved scalp, searching for a non-existent grip in her short hair.

"Shit," Cass whimpered, "Fuck, shit, goddamn. Don't stop. Fuck, don't stop!" she cried, her voice breaking. She strained forward against Boyd's head, no longer entirely in control of her body, muscles tense. She worried at her bottom lip with her teeth, biting hard enough that she tasted blood.

She held back for as long as she could, prolonging her enjoyment and savoring the feel of Boyd's tongue on her clit, but she was too aroused, too eager to resist for long. She came with a bone-rattling sight and a sudden, convulsive jerk against Boyd's body, thrashing as her climax rolled over her.

Panting, she lay back against the wall, shivering at the press of the cold metal paneling against her sweat-slick skin. "Christ," she said, as Boyd sat up and stretched, working the kinks out of her neck. "You eat pussy like a champion."

"The natural outcome of my misspent youth," she said, settling herself against Cass, her arms around her waist. "All kinds of things go down in the women's barracks."

Cass pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Fuck, I'd known that, I would have been in here a lot sooner."

Boyd laughed and reached up, kissing Cass lazily. "You come on by whenever," she said. "I'll see if I can't get you on the approved list to use the monorail."

"I'll bet you say that to all the girls," Cass teased.

"Just you," Boyd said sleepily. "Just you."


End file.
